


Static

by xobarriers



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Gen, Horror, Paranoia, Please be careful if you're bothered by gore or typical horror themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xobarriers/pseuds/xobarriers
Summary: There's something distinctly unsettling and inhuman about the strange, dizzying camera angles and the pale figures that keep popping up in reflections.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	Static

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this short AU based on pictures that my friend provided me! It was originally posted on twitter - go give me a follow at [@xobarriers](https://twitter.com/xobarriers) if you'd like to see the other AUs I post there. For reference, the pictures this AU was inspired by are embedded below. 
> 
> Also, this absolutely rips off about a million horror films. Pretend it doesn't <3

[](https://imgbb.com/) [](https://imgbb.com/)

Frank's had the longest day of his entire life. Work has been absolute hell, and there's nothing in the world he'd rather do than rent a DVD, relax on his couch, and watch till he falls asleep.

He wanders through the aisles of the video store in an exhausted daze and grabs a few DVDs that seem relatively interesting - there's two old, shitty looking slashers and one of the newest alien thrillers. He figures that they'll be entertaining enough to keep him invested till he passes out. After forking over a couple of bucks, he picks up takeout from his favorite vegan place and heads back to his cramped apartment. 

He has to shove aside a pile of laundry and a few empty water bottles in order to sit down in front of his TV. He makes a mental note to clean up as soon as he gets some sleep and turns on the first DVD, one of the slashers. It's as shitty as he had expected it to be, but a lot of fun, so he pops in the next slasher film when it ends and curls up on the couch, tossing his empty takeout box to the floor. 

It only takes a few minutes for Frank to notice how fucking creepy this new movie is. It doesn't seem to be sticking to the slasher genre at all; there's something distinctly unsettling and inhuman about the strange, dizzying camera angles and the pale figures that keep popping up in reflections. One of the figures actually frightens him when its narrow face pops up directly in the camera's view; the man, eyes dark and hollow, just stares at the camera for a moment before the video seems to glitch and the film resumes as normal. Frank's not a fan of that type of scare, so he gives up trying to follow the weird, convoluted plot after a while and turns over. He leaves the TV playing for some background noise - even though it's horror, it relaxes him - and falls asleep pretty quickly, head pillowed on his arms. 

When he wakes again, some unknown number of hours later, the room is.... almost silent. There's a soft, staticky hum and a gentle buzz (coming from the TV, he assumes). He groans and flips back over, reaching for the remote. Huh. The TV's screen is flickering, black and white fuzzy static slowly parading across the dimly lit surface. He clicks the TV off and stands, stretching. The room is so quiet and so dark. Maybe it's just lingering unease from the movie, but Frank feels strange. He picks up his empty takeout box and retreats to the kitchen. 

Frank tries to shake how creeped out he still feels, but it's so hard to relax in an empty apartment. He dumps his box in the trash and sighs as he glances over to check the time. The clock on the microwave has gotta be broken again; it reads 2:45 pm, but there's no light filtering through the shade pulled down over the window. Everything is dark and still. Frank crosses the kitchen in a few steps to double check. He tugs aside the shade and glances outside- definitely night. It's pitch black, actually: there's zero visibility. He guesses that the street lights must have burned out - strange, all at the same time - and lets the shade fall back into place. 

The moment it stops swaying, there's a burst of static from the living room. It startles him enough that he jumps.

He has to laugh at himself. He's so freaked out by a _movie_ that something as simple as the TV flipping on scares him. After shaking his head and chuckling a bit, he heads back into the living room to turn the TV off for the second time. 

The screen, black moments ago, has resumed the same weird static. 

Frank _really_ doesn't like that static. He rolls his eyes and turns the TV off again. Less than a second after he turns to go back to the kitchen, the screen hums. Without turning around, he knows the static's started again; he can see his shadow, flickering and dim, silhouetted against the wall. 

By now, it's a bit too weird for Frank to just write off as a mechanical failure. 

He frowns and reaches down to yank the plug out of the wall, his heart beating a bit too quickly. The TV goes black. He takes a few deep breaths, alone in the dark, and slowly steps back, praying the TV stays off. 

Behind him, something moves. 

There's a displacement of air playing over the back of Frank's neck, a quiet creaking of floorboards, and an suddenly overwhelming feeling that, merely inches away, something's staring at him. His breath catches in his lungs and his stomach lurches. This isn't funny, not anymore. 

Before he can do anything, something brushes against his lower back. It's a slow, caressing touch, like his boyfriend gives him whenever they're together, but the fingers delivering the touch feel ice cold through the fabric of his shirt. He can't find his voice to protest or the strength to move; he just stands there, trembling, and hopes more than anything that he's dreaming. The touch drifts higher for a moment and then rounds his hip, outlines of bitingly cold fingers resting on his side. 

Frank finally forces himself to move. He takes a shaky step forward and pivots, raising his hands to defend himself if need be. It's so dark. so fucking dark; he can't see a thing. 

"Please," he manages to whisper, barely audible over the sound of his pounding heartbeat in his ears. "Please-" 

At his back, the TV flickers to life. 

In the sudden wash of light, he makes out a single, pale figure less than a foot away from him. His dark eyes - familiar, hollow dark eyes, Frank realizes with a rush of terror - are fixed on him. Just like in the film, the figure does nothing but stare. It's a blank, cold gaze, filled with zero light or warmth. A soulless gaze. 

Frank tries to back away but he bumps into the TV stand and, in the split second he's distracted enough to look away, the figure moves. A sudden feeling of ice against his abdomen, a rush of pain so intense he can't breathe, and a dizzying, gushing warmth spreading across his torso make Frank fall to his knees, his head spinning. 

He can't look away from the dark eyes. He tries to scream but all that emerges is a pained, choked gurgle. His mouth tastes like pennies. 

The figure reaches out again and there's another shocking burst of agony. This time, Frank can feel the spray of blood hit his face. As his vision swims and he gasps for breath, the figure leans in till his face is nearly touching Frank's. 

"Mine," he whispers, clearly satisfied. 

Frank's vision fails him and he slumps to the floor, blood soaking into the carpet. His ruined chest slowly rises and falls once, twice, three times. Then he's still. 

The TV static - and the figure - disappear. In the shocking stillness, the movie Frank had rented earlier floods the room with light.

This time, as the movie's first scenes play across the screen, there's a new figure lurking in reflections. Its pale body, much shorter than the figure it stands beside, is covered in strange markings that almost, to a trained eye, might resemble the tattoos etched into the skin of the man bleeding out in front of the TV.

Outside the apartment, the streetlights flicker on, one after another.


End file.
